Renewal
by calendaes
Summary: Xander and Oz friendship, set in season three after "Lover's Walk"


Title: Renewal  
Author: loraineee  
Email: jennyb@kpunet.net  
Pairing: Xander and Oz friendship  
Setting: Season three between and   
Disclaimer: These are not my characters and I am making no profit.  
Notes: This was written for the Back in the Day Ficathon. Fun challenge!  
  
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It starts with a cold trickle on the side of his cheek and gets worse from there. The snow already covers his plate of Christmas cookies and would have soaked the stack of comics if Xander hadn't tucked them under his shirt at the first sign of dampness. Can't have your favorite comic in less than mint condition because you're too much of an idiot to protect it in case of freak snow storm.  
  
Xander curls up under the only tree in the yard, pulling the sleeping bag up around his shoulders. It doesn't do much in terms of warmth, but at least it's dry--well, mostly dry. He stares across the yard and watches the stumbling shadows through the living room window.   
  
There's something strangely quiet about snow, he decides. A stillness almost. Kind of like the practice room with padded walls in junior high band class. Silent, but sharp; he hears the clatter of broken glass and angry voices cutting through the calm as World War 300 rages inside. He can make out individual words now. Oddly fascinating in a painful way, like just about everything in his life.  
  
The crunch of snow behind him startles him out of his introspection and he clutches at the cross and stake he brought outside for protection, wriggling out of his sleeping bag and tripping over the roots of the tree as he turns to face his attacker. I've got a stake and I'm not afraid to use it!  
  
Oz stands over him, unperturbed by the turn of events. Xander, hey.  
  
Xander pushes himself off the snowy ground and shakes off his sleeping bag before sitting down, still a little freaked by Oz's sudden appearance.. Okay, next time can you give me a little warning before you sneak up on me? That hey' would have been perfect right about ten seconds ago. Geez, give a guy a heart attack, why don't ya? With your crazy covert technique and your small, compact but ma--um, Oz, why are you here at-- Xander brushes the snow off his wrist. 3:00 in the morning on Christmas?  
  
Oz shrugs and pulls his coat tighter around his frame. Willow said you'd be out here. Thought I'd stop by and see if you were still out.  
  
Xander spreads out the rest of his sleeping bag and clears off a section for Oz after he sneaks his feet under the lip. Yeah. Still here, enjoying the snow. Sunnydale never ceases to amaze with it's hellmouth-y ability to turn any day into a spectacle of epic proportions.  
  
Oz sits down on the other end of the sleeping bag against the tree. Can't deny it. You cold, man?  
  
Xander shakes his head, grinding his teeth into a grotesque smile as he tries to hold back the chattering. Nah, I like it. And you still haven't told me why you're here. Not really.  
  
Oz sticks his hands further down into his pockets and sighs. Like I said, I wanted to see if you were still out.  
  
I think that fact has been well established. Xander shivers and burrows as far into the sleeping bag as he could. Is this going to be a whole revenge beating scenario? Because, Oz, if I haven't said it before, I'm really, really sorry about what happened at the warehouse. I'm scum. Lower than scum, I'm the amoeba that lives underneath the scum and lives off the scum's leftovers and has no impulse control. And I really would appreciate it if you would not beat me up right now because my socks are wet and I'm cold and it's late--or early and it's Christmas and I can't sleep and, did I say that I'm cold?   
  
Xander folds in on himself and plays with the lip of the sleeping bag. But I know that I deserve it. I'm just--I'm really sorry, man. Xander finishes his ramble and gives in to the chattering, his whole body shaking and tense.  
  
Oz shifts just enough that Xander can fit his legs into the sleeping bag. He tilts his head and regards Xander with what just may be a hint of amusement. I know. I kinda figured after the third or fourth apology. He pauses, leaning heavily against the tree. I just wanted to let you know that I accept your apology. And tell you that you really shouldn't be sleeping outside. Vampires don't care about holidays. I don't want to see you get hurt or worse. It would kill Wil and I don't ever want to see her unhappy. That's it. I forgive you , Xander.  
  
I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much--I mean, thanks, Oz. I really don't know what to say. Xander's curiosity outruns his confusion. While I appreciate the amnesty, can I ask what brought this on? Cause last week, it didn't seem like you were much on the forgiveness.  
  
Oz purses his lips and stands slowly. I wasn't last week, or even yesterday, but--I was with Willow tonight and things were good. Really good. We were watching the snow falling and she fell asleep. And I realized that I didn't want to be angry anymore. So I'm not. You've got a blank slate with me, Xander. He starts backing up out of the yard. 'Tis the season for renewal, I guess. Be safe, Xander.  
  
You too, Oz. Xander watches Oz leaves. Have a good vacation. See you at school. Xander pulls the bag up around his shoulders and shakes the snow off a soggy cookie, knowing there would be no more sleep tonight.  
  
He gives up when the snow soaks through the threadbare seams of his sleeping bag and pads through the yard on his soaked soaks. The house is quiet. Dad and the rest of his brothers must have moved the merrymaking to another location. He steps over some broken glass in the kitchen and tiptoes towards the living room, eager to avoid a confrontation with some inebriated member of the Harris clan.  
  
Halfway past the couch, she calls out, heavily slurring her words. Xander. It's snowing, did you see?   
  
Yeah, Mom. He smells the alcohol on her breath from across the room. Let's go to bed, huh? Xander pulls his mom off the couch and helps her to her room. She's asleep before she hits the bed.   
  
He stands in the doorway a moment, watching the light from outside reflect off his mother's face and wondering if he could let it all go like Oz. Forgive all the past disappointments and humiliations and forget. Give the world a new chance and a new Xander Harris.  
  
He sits by her bedside for a while and brushes the hair off her face. Merry Christmas, Mom. 


End file.
